


once in a blue moon

by thisisgermy



Series: huuh whaaaaat [5]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Self Aware AI
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Blood, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Threats of Violence, Touch-Starved, an alternate to the end part 1, being slapped, brief mention of the science team and benrey in the beginning, bubbys prototypes, minigun arm, prototype deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisgermy/pseuds/thisisgermy
Summary: are you done being a shit-baby yet?
Relationships: Gordon Freeman and Bubby
Series: huuh whaaaaat [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739653
Comments: 11
Kudos: 139





	once in a blue moon

**Author's Note:**

> started: 15/5/2020  
> go grandpa go be a bitch and try your hardest!  
> its been like four years and i still dont know how to tag shit properly. pog.  
> just some deaths of prototypes and a slap in here, nothing too major. im sick of looking at it.

right as gordon disappeared through the portal, he felt it. a tug, deep within his chest, though this time, it was much more persistent, and annoying, and loud, far stronger than the soft flutters from before. it made his gut squirm in anxiety. 

prototypes. many of them. they were very, _very_ close, and they were active, on the hunt for _very_ fresh blood. fear pooled into his stomach at the thought of who their prey could be, and he despised the fact that _that_ had been the first emotion to hit. not elation, not smug, no - _fear_. as if he thought gordon to be a friend or something. it was disgusting.

'i'm going to check on something.' dr coomer glanced at bubby with raised brows, sensing his immediate shift.

'oh? would you like us to assist, dr bubby?'

'no, i think i'll be fine on my own. thank you, dr coomer.'

'please be careful, dr bubby! we'll-we'll wait right here!'

'yeah whatever just don't die out there bro.'

'i'm the smartest motherfucker here, if anyone's gonna die first it's you.'

'yo i can't die broooo, i got an epic killstreaaak.' bubby waved benrey off with a shake of the head and walked off from the group.

he followed the pull of his heart to an innocuous door sat off to their right, and the pull grew painfully insistent. when he pushed it open, the volume of a revved mini-gun and dying prototypes was numbingly loud, pounding into his head. bullets flew straight past his face in bright blurs, burrowing a hole into the wall, a shower of plaster raining down with each pellet. he wasn't one to flinch away from most things, but the deaths of the prototypes combined with the loud, rapid, too close gunfire was suddenly too much for bubby to bear, each death capitalised with their over the top squeals. he refused to watch them keel over, instead keeping his eyes forward.

he stayed in the doorway, waiting for the spin of the mini-gun to wind down. he wondered, briefly, why the others hadn't come to investigate the noise (they were literally stood right behind him), but then thanked whatever lucky stars he had that they were too deaf to hear the commotion.

once the _brbrbrbr_ of the mini-gun came to a slow halt, he stepped inside and let the door close. the tug grew unbearable - he watched the last prototype, popped full of smoking holes, claw at the wall before flopping to the floor with a groan, and with its death, the tug died completely. he smelt copper and test-tube liquid. he saw many other prototypes that looked just like him littered around the room, dead in puddles of green slime. he saw gordon, huddled at the far end of the room, his quivering mini-gun aimed directly at bubby's head.

'gordon?' he heard gordon whimper; could see his panic as clear as day even through the darkness. how he was debating on if he should fire at bubby or not. bubby rose his hands in surrender, and didn't dare take another step forward. '... gordon, it's me-'

' _fuck_ you,' his voice came out broken and scratchy. he'd been screaming. the science team hadn't heard _any_ of the commotion, even though they were a single door away. it was a miracle he was even conscious with how fast gordon's chest heaved in and out. 'don't- stay-stay back-'

'you dumbass, if i wanted to attack you, i would've by now! ... just-just _breathe_ , man-'

' **FUCK** you,' but he lowered his arm, it thunking harshly against the floor. 'fucking- fucking prototype _BULL_ shit, what the FUCK was that, why-you-why-' bubby marched right over to gordon and crouched in front of him, a harsh frown on his face. gordon didn't take aim, instead flinching away, his back slamming against the wall, so bubby considered gordon at least lucid enough to try and get him moving. 

'if you're done with your freak out, we'd like to get a move on, i want to go-'

'don't even fucking _start_ with that shit man; after what the fuck i just had to deal with you're waiting for ME.' bubby rolled his eyes in a dramaticness fit for a teenager, but drew back his irritation when he saw how shook up gordon was. literally. the man was shivering as if he were cold, his chest a flurry of nerves. he glared through bubby instead of at him, eyes glassy and unfocused. it set bubby on edge, because they had been through a lot. sure, he'd been _unnerved_ at the things they'd fought, but bubby had never seen him be reduced to a cowering mess.

never before had gordon actually. _concerned_ him.

'... are you alright?'

'do-do i _SEEM_ alright to you???'

'... huh. no, you look like shit-'

'i am having the WORST day of my FUCKING life; not only did you and benrey cut my FUCKING hand off over a FUCKING passport or why ever the FUCK you even DID that but then you act like a fucking ASSHOLE to me this entire time and i didn't even DO anything to you!?!?!? i just wanted to do the TEST man!!! i didn't want any of this shit but _YOU_ seem to think i _DID_!!! you have the fucking GALL to act like shit to me and rush me everywhere and guess what, **BUDDY**!!! i'm NOT!!! i'm fucking NOT doing that anymore!!! FUCK you and FUCK your prototypes and FUCK-'

gordon kept swearing off a list of reasons why his day sucked, and why bubby sucked, and why his job sucked, and when it became apparent that he wasn't going to stop any time soon, bubby did the first thing that came to mind, and slapped gordon clean across the face. it was sudden enough to send gordon's head careening off to the side, his glasses knocked askew in collateral damage. silence rung around the room as gordon sat there, frozen; even the machines had stopped ticking in shock at what bubby had just done. slowly, so painfully slowly, gordon moved his head to face bubby, very uncanny in the way a puppet moves in a horror movie. and in that one moment, for the first time since their trip began, bubby was afraid of gordon.

he supposed there was always a first time for everything. he just wished it didn't all happen at the same time.

'................ did you just fucking _hit_ me?' gordon asked, very softly, about ten seconds away from another mental break. he'd taken a lot of shit in the last day - being shot at by both comrades and enemies, seeing real life aliens, his arm getting cut off, being verbally bashed and mocked on the constant - but what bubby had done just about took the cake. it should have been funny, with the way his glasses sat, how a red mark was blooming on his cheek, how fucking _rabid_ he looked, but bubby barely cracked a grin. 

'... yes! i god damn _did_!' bubby snapped, feigning confidence. 'are you going to calm the fuck down-'

'i'll **shoot** you-' gordon stuffed the barrel of the mini-gun under bubby's chin, tilting up his head with the fierceness of it. a jolt of fear, ice cold and electric, shivered down bubby's spine. the chamber was hot from its recent release of rounds, and it bit into his skin. it made bubby's heart jump in a bad way; he knew gordon was too far down his mental rope to be bluffing. 'i'll fucking SHOOT you bubby i swear to FUCKING god do not fucking _test_ me right now i'll shove this gun so far up your ass, every time you open your GOD DAMN mouth to be a dickhead you'll be able to spit _BULLETS_ into **_CANS_** -'

' ** _gordon_**!' a pair of hands flew to gordon's face in reflex, landing on either side in a light hold rather than dispensing more slaps. the sting became more apparent with the added pressure, which, ironically, helped gordon gain focus. gordon gasped, his tunnelled vision expanding outwards at the unexpected touch, until he saw bubby's fright through one eye. he blinked, his mind further clearing of its clouds thanks to the sting and the warmth of bubby's hands.

the seconds they spent staring at each other were intense. you could cut the tension with a knife. '... a-are you of-of sound mind yet?' a pause, gordon's blankness turning into life as he processed the world around him. he couldn't see very well because of his misplaced glasses. '... i'd uh. i'd, very, much, like you to, remove, your gun from my, chin. if you please. ... right now.'

'what? .................... oh.' _tunk_. bubby exhaled and lowered his head to properly face gordon. bubby didn't seem angry at him. in fact, he seemed. understanding. compassionate? 's-sorry. ... god i'm sorry bubby, it's- i- ... it's been a bit of a rough day.'

'no _shit_ , einstein.'

'yeah, no fucking wonder why- do you have a constant asshole meter you gotta fill or something? does it ever hit zero?'

'i assure you, if i do, you'll be the first one to know.'

bubby stayed crouched, his hands remaining on gordon's face. gordon stayed sat down, regaining his composure, the face hold a nice change of pace. he'd lost count, how many times he'd lost his mind in a day. had it only been one day? it felt more like a month.

'you, uh.' bubby knocked his shoulder back to his dead copycats. 'do you wanna talk about _them_ , or-'

' **no**.'

'alright. ... good, saves me the trouble of going into extreme detail.' gordon looked bubby in the eye, who appeared nervous for a different reason now that he wasn't being threatened at point blank. he fumbled for a second, before spitting out, 'and i'm. i'm sorry. ... for slapping you.'

'nah, it's fine.' gordon waved his good arm out of bubby's view nonchalantly. 'you've done way worse. ... anyway, shooting you would've made us even, so i _really_ should have-'

'i'm. pretty sure that would have killed me-'

'but hey, i didn't, so no harm done huh?' bubby's awkwardness instantly expelled, his bitchiness returning in small doses; first with a scowl, then with the curl of his upper lip. 'oh and uh. thanks. for uh. ... i dunno, what'er you even doing, comforting me?' gordon pointed at his cupped face with a lost kind of expression. 'is this your way of showing reassurance?'

'oh so you're done being a stupid shit-bitch baby now?' bubby snapped, avoiding the question. there was no real malice behind his tone, though it still made gordon exasperated. bubby finally removed his hands, making haste to fix gordon's glasses, gently knocking them back into place in further apology. his hands then dropped down to gordon's shoulders after a moment of hesitation. he patted at them twice, then used gordon as a ledge to push himself up to his feet. ' _great_! we've wasted _so_ much time in here!' bubby offered gordon his hand, back to his 100% smart asshole self, and gordon took it with a huff.

'you're an asshole-' bubby yanked him up with surprising strength, cutting him off. seeing gordon almost fall back over because of it made bubby bark with laughter.

'i want to go home, gordon! lets, GOOOOO'

'man, fuck you.' they left the dead end prototype room together, ignoring the stench of the bodies left in their wake.

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck how the fuck did this get so long 3gvdfgfvsdf sorry  
> thanks for reading sorry it was almost 2000 words


End file.
